He did not add anything else.
Anna sensed that there was more beneath the answer.
She also understood now that beneath almost every answer lived something more.
Lily leaned against her.
“Grandpa Thomas came home when you were little?”
Anna ran a hand through her daughter’s tangled hair.
“Apparently.”
“Did Grandma know?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t she tell you?”
Anna looked toward the ruined cabin.
“That’s what we’re trying to understand.”
Harriet Sloan approached carrying the photocopied map.
“We found the old ventilation passage.”
Noah stood immediately.
“Is it accessible?”
“Partially.”
“Can we go in?”
“No.”
Harriet’s answer was so immediate that even Colter smiled.
She pointed toward the tree line.
“The old route beneath the cabin is unstable.”
“But approximately forty yards east there’s another entrance hidden behind a collapsed retaining wall.”
“Does it reach the second room?”
“We think so.”
Anna tried to stand.
Tess put a hand on her shoulder.
“You think wrong.”
“I’m going.”
“You have one ankle that currently resembles a grapefruit.”
“It’s my father.”
“And your father will remain exactly where he is while trained professionals make sure the ceiling doesn’t fall on you.”
Anna looked frustrated.
Tess raised an eyebrow.
“I’m a paramedic.”
“I have practice winning this argument.”
Lily whispered, “She does.”
Anna looked at her daughter.
“You’re taking her side?”
“She has snacks.”
Even Noah laughed.
The small sound surprised all of them.
For several seconds, Cedar Hollow became simply a place where tired people could still laugh.
Then Harriet’s radio crackled.
One of the inspectors had found something.
The group moved to the edge of the taped area.
A worker emerged carrying a weatherproof evidence container.
Inside was a rusted lunch tin.
Noah recognized it immediately.
He sat down on the nearest stump.
“That was Dad’s.”
Anna looked at him.
“You’re sure?”
“There’s a dent in the corner.”
His voice became distant.
“He dropped it off the porch when I was ten.”
“Mom wanted him to throw it away.”
“He said the dent gave it character.”
Harriet carefully opened the tin.
Inside were several ruined papers.
A pocketknife.
A matchbook.
And a photograph sealed in waxed cloth.
The photograph had survived.
Two men stood outside Black Ridge Mine.
One was Thomas Mercer.
The other was Caleb Reed.
Their work clothes were coated with dust.
Both were grinning.
Between them stood two children.
Six-year-old Anna.
Fourteen-year-old Noah.
Anna covered her mouth.
Noah whispered, “I remember that day.”
“I don’t.”
“You kept asking to wear your dad’s helmet.”
Anna studied the photograph.
She saw herself looking upward toward Thomas.
He had one hand resting lightly on her shoulder.
She looked safe beside him.
Not abandoned.
Not forgotten.
Safe.
“My mother kept almost no photographs of him after he disappeared.”
Noah looked at her.
“Maybe looking at them hurt.”
“That doesn’t explain lying.”
“No.”
“Please stop defending people who refused to tell me the truth.”
Noah flinched.
Anna regretted the sharpness immediately.
She exhaled.
“I’m sorry.”
“You don’t owe me an apology.”
“I do.”
She looked at him.
“You inherited your father’s guilt.”
“I inherited my mother’s silence.”
“Neither of us created this.”
Noah stared at the old photograph.
“But we still have to live with it.”
Colter spoke quietly.
“That’s the trouble with things people bury.”
“They don’t always stay with the person who buried them.”
Noah looked at him.
Colter shrugged.
“I’ve lived long enough to learn one or two inconvenient things.”
Harriet approached again.
“There’s writing inside the lunch tin.”
A folded scrap had been protected behind the photograph.
The pencil marks were faint but readable.
Caleb, if you reach daylight, tell Ruth I am coming home first.
Then I will come back.
Anna read it twice.
Her eyes filled.
“He planned it.”
Noah nodded.
“He knew he was going back before he ever escaped.”
“Why?”
“For Eli.”
Anna looked at Noah.
“Tell me about him.”
“My uncle?”
“Yes.”
Noah sat beside the canvas shelter.